Bullets
by itaitach4n
Summary: A free-lance thief, Deidara has felt powerless and depressed his whole life. He steals for a living and regrets every moment of his sad life. His world is flipped when he encounters the gentle soul, Uchiha Itachi. AU DEIITA Set in the 50's.
1. Chapter 1

I have always wanted to write a deiita story. This is something I haven't done before, writing not in the Naruto world. This story is set in the 50's. I'm not sure if anyone will like this, but this idea has been in my head for a while. Enjoy!

* * *

Deidara was quick with a gun. He knew it and so did every unfortunate soul that crossed his path. He could recall the moment he first held a gun. He was only a child, maybe six at the time. He found it hidden amongst all the trash and random belongings that consumed his mother and his childhood. Once his cerulean eyes fell upon the metal object, his breath hiccupped. He trembled slightly, lifting the weighted object up for inspection. It felt cool in his hands. He turned it around, eyes wide with curiosity. What he felt flooding from the gun into his being was something completely foreign to him.

Power.

Deidara lived in a world where he was powerless. He watched his father leave, his mother fall apart. He watched drugs and men ruin his mother's sweet attitude, leaving nothing but the shell of a woman behind. Deidara had no power to stop it. Recently though, a new man in particular had been coming around. He was tall, good looking, but he was a crule man. He took every chance he got to swing at the child. He would smack Deidara up, right in front of his drugged out mother. She looked on, sky-blue eyes unfocused and glazed.

Deidara tried to fight back, but the man simply over powered him. Deidara hated him. He hated him with such an unbelieveable passion. He hated his mother as well. He hated how she let these men come into her life, _their_ life and ruin it.

Then, one early October morning, Deidara stumbled upon his dead mother. She had died peacefully in her sleep. It was the first time since his father left that Deidara could remember her looking so happy. He felt sad of course, but had no proper time to mourn his dead mother, for the nameless man had chosen to stick around their home. He said he felt obligated to stay, since he was with Deidara's mother for so long.

After the funeral, the man moved in and even tried to take Deidara under his wing. Deidara refused. This man was a parasite and leached off of whomever he could. Deidara hated the man, and he was terrified of him. Some days were good; the man would seem kind and friendly. Then other days the man would wake Deidara by striking him. Deidara felt helpless and trapped. He felt that no one could save him. He couldn't count on anyone but himself.

Then the day he found the gun changed everything.

It was so pretty, beckoning him to hold it. Deidara placed a sun-kissed finger on the trigger, feeling a surge of power in his body. He trembled at this power.

"What the fuck are you doing with that?!" Roared a voice that made Deidara nearly jump out of his skin.

Deidara quickly turned to look over his shoulder at the nameless man. He was dressed in a gray suit, his hair unkempt and his shirt un-tucked. He was leaning against the door, holding a bottle of scotch. He tried to glare at the kid, but his soulless-black eyes refused to focus on anything. Deidara remained where he was on the ground, head turned slightly to face him. They stated in silence for a moment before the man stepped forward on shaky legs.

"I said what the fu-"

And that was it. Deidara shot the man right in the chest. The action happened so fast, that Deidara felt his breath catch after he pulled the trigger. He watched the man fall, lifelessly to the ground as a pool of blood grew under him. Deidara's heart pounded as he stared at the body. He looked at the gun in his hands, closing his fingers around it.

This was the first man he had ever killed.

But, certainly not the last.

Deidara left his horrid home, filled with despicable memories. He held no guilt in his heart for what he did. He moved town to town, gaining experience with the gun. Many people questioned why someone so young had such a terrible thing. Deidara grew impatient always yelling how no one would understand.

Deidara grew into a loud, cocky teenager. He lived couch by couch. Sleeping where he could, and always moving. Money was never a question though, he was a free range thief, hired to steal. He was quite good at it too. He wasn't fancy though, he usually went where he needed to go, shooting the place up. He was deeply depressed by his life, but hid his unhappiness with a cocky grin and obnoxious attitude.

* * *

Deidara sat at a bar he frequented. He was hunched over the bar, head resting on the table. He golden hair fell like a pool on the counter next to his tanned cheek. He was drunk. He sighed, trying to sit up, but immediately felt sick. He grumbled to himself, hearing the bartender laugh.

"I'd shut up if I were you." Slurred the blond, trying to scowl at the elderly bartender.

The man laughed. It wasn't a laugh of mockery or a nervous one; it was a genuine laugh that put Deidara at ease. The man had been good to Deidara. He let Deidara stay with him whenever he was in town, which was a lot lately. He even served the nineteen year old alcohol.

"Better take it easy with this," the elder said, pulling the glass of scotch away from the drunk blond. "You don't want a repeat of last time."

Deidara 'tch-ed' in annoyance. The elder was referring to the last time he drank himself into a stupor and he picked a fight with the sheriff's son. The two strong armed one another until they took it outside to finish the job. Deidara would have been the victor, he was faster with a gun, but the elder knew this and stopped the fight. The sheriff was called in and Deidara was put in jail for one night. Deidara didn't mind, just meant he had one less night where he would have to find somewhere to sleep. Deidara had been in and out of jail so many times since he found the gun. He had never spent much time in the slammer though. A couple nights here and there. But the sheriff of the town had been gunning for Deidara since the spat between him and his son.

Deidara sighed, feeling the effects of the alcohol wearing off. He rested his strong jaw on his crossed arms, looking lazily about the bar. The bar was old, probably the oldest in town. It was dark and cool, with paper lanterns that lined the celling, giving the bar a soft, hazy glow. Deidara eyed the other people in the bar. There were only a couple people drinking, but overall the place was dead. Then again, it was only ten in the morning.

Deidara shut his eyes, burrowing his head into the sleeves of his crossed arms. He would probably pass out here, then wake up and drink some more. Drinking always helped him deal with the shit that was his life.

"Well, would you look at that?" The elder mumbled under his breath.

Deidara stirred. Probably some blond bimbo that waltzed in. The elder was a horn dog and eyed every pretty young thing that entered through those old reed doors. Deidara had no idea why the elder pointed these women out to him, Deidara was very gay. Deidara had never felt anything towards women. He had slept with so many, yet never felt anything for them. He slept with quite a few men as well, and though he never really felt anything spark between them, he felt the sex was much better. Well, he had fallen in love once. It was with a red headed man with tan, sleepy eyes. He was wonderful, not only in bed but in what Deidara regarded as his passion, art. The only thing that conflicted between the two was their concept of what real art was. But, Deidara loved the man so passionately, that the day he had to kill him he nearly broke.

But, that had been so long ago.

"Deidara, hey check that out!" The elder said, smacking Deidara's pounding head.

Deidara felt his fingers twitch as he considered pulling out his gun and blowing away the kind bartender. He reluctantly dismissed that idea and lifted his head. He swung his pounding head so that he was looking over his shoulder, his eyes fell on the specimen that the elder was referring to.

"My god.." Deidara breathed when his eyes fell upon the man whom had just taken a seat at the corner of the bar.

Deidara had never seen anyone so beautiful. The man whom had just taken a seat had such a striking face, that Deidara felt unworthy to look upon it. His skin was pale, but glowing. He cheeks and lips were a soft, rosy color indicating how young and healthy he was. His hair fell like a waterfall down his back, held back by a scarlet ribbon. He had inky black bangs that framed that perfect face, and his eyes. Deidara immediately turned away once those coal optics looked into his cerulean ones.

Deidara's face was flushed from exchange of looks. He felt nervous and sweaty, something he had never felt before. Deidara looked desperately at the bartender who could barely contain the silly grin that had spread on his face. Deidara sunk into his chair. _Jesus_, what the hell was he thinking?

"Now, I am straight as an arrow and even I gotta admit, that is one sexy man." The elder said with a shake of his head.

Deidara's face was still beet red.

"Go talk to him."

'Are you mental?" Deidara asked, tapping the counter indicating he wanted a drink.

The elder acknowledged this, and poured Deidara's usual drink. Scotch on the rocks.

"No, but this guy is here to take you away from this." The elder said, gesturing to the bar.

Deidara flicked his long, blond hair away from his eyes, sighing.

"I like it here.." It wasn't a total lie.

The elder rolled his eyes, slamming the bottle down on the counter.

"This is what he is going to take away from you."

Alcohol.

Deidara sneered at this. He hated the fact that he drank, especially scotch. He sighed again, glancing over his shoulder. The man was gone. Deidara felt his muscles relax, but the bartender shook his head in annoyance.

"Don't be such a wimp." He muttered.

Deidara tried to muster up a scowl, but all he could do was stare blankly at the elder. That man had completely infiltrated his mind. His brain was bombarded with questions. He suddenly regretted not going up to the man. Usually when Deidara found a man attractive, he sashayed over and asked if they were interested in a good fuck. But no, not this man. That sort of behavior seemed so insulting if he were to pull that crap on that man. Deidara sighed. It was a good thing the man left. Deidara wasn't worth his time.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Deidara hung around the bar even more so than usual. He kept hoping he would run into that stunning man again. But, weeks turned into months and the man never returned. Deidara grew unhappy at this. He knew he wasn't good enough for this man, so why was he so fixated on him? He tried to convince himself that it was better this way. He didn't want to darken that man's life. Besides, he had bigger problems.

Like money.

Deidara hadn't been doing any jobs recently, and his money was dwindling. Usually in this situation, Deidara would just take off for another town, but something held him here. Was it that beautiful man that kept him here? He wasn't sure. But he stayed, even though his money was laughably low.

The bar was busy that night. Deidara hated when it was busy. He liked to wallow in self-pity in silence. He growled as people laughed and were merry around him. He rubbed his tired eyes, taking a long drink from his glass.

"Scotch on the rocks?" A man said, taking a seat across from the blond.

Deidara's attention fell on the man before him. He was older, with salt and pepper hair. He had gray eyes which held no ounce of emotion. His side of his face was scarred and he had a grin plastered on his smug face that made Deidara feel sick.

"Yeah." Deidara grumbled as the man reached for his glass.

"Let me buy you a drink, I have a business proposition for you."

Deidara remained quiet as the man headed toward the bar. He returned within moments with Deidara's drink, which Deidara gulped down. The older man took his seat and eyed Deidara as he finished his drink.

"So, what do you want?" Deidara slurred, feeling confident due to the alcohol.

The man smiled.

"I know of your services. I know how good you are with a gun. I have a problem that I need your expertise, if you will."

Deidara was fading in and out of the conversation. The man before him was creepy. He had a way of speaking that made Deidara feel tired and sluggish. The man seemed to notice, and closed his mouth. A smile formed on his thin lips as he pulled out his check book.

"If you're prepared to do what I ask, I will pay you this much." The man scribbled down a number, sliding the check over to Deidara.

Deidara lifted the check close to his eyes and his pulse quickened. He had never seen so much money before. He felt his face drain of color. Just what did this man want him to do? Deidara smirked, sobering up quickly.

"You got yourself a deal."

* * *

Deidara had been hired as a hit-man. Something he had never considered. Deidara wasn't afraid to kill anyone. But, he had never gone out of his way to find and kill someone specific. The idea didn't excite him. He much rather preferred to steal and rob, but murder. He smiled to himself as he thought of the money though.

The sick bastard had hired Deidara to kill his wife. Apparently, he thought she had cheated on him with one of their friends. The man presented the evidence to Deidara, and Deidara knew that this man was in the wrong. His wife was innocent. But, this man was wild. He had a gleam in his eye that was sporadic and cruel. Deidara didn't care though. It was all about the money.

Deidara spent some time gathering information on the wife. She usually spent an hour or two a week in a salon. She had friends in there and often times brought them lunch and would stay and chat. That is when Deidara decided he would strike. He considered waiting until she left the salon to kill her, but thought if he went in and killed everyone in the salon it wouldn't seem as suspicions.

He watched with careful, blue eyes as the wife entered the salon. She held a basket filled with biscuits and meats for her friends. Deidara smirked. He loaded his gun, the same gun he had killed his first person with. He felt at ease with the gun loaded. He turned towards the salon, and advanced on it. Once he was close to the building, he looked in to see five women sitting, eating and talking. Easy pickings. Deidara cocked his gun when he felt his body slam into the side of the building. He let out a gasp from the unknown force. He felt his gun being stripped away from him, and an arm pushing against his back holding him to the wall. He turned his head, snarling. Then his heart skipped a beat.

It was that beautiful man.

The man looked positively irritated. He glared at Deidara. Deidara gulped under the gaze of the much smaller man. He only came to Deidara's shoulders, but his hardened gaze made Deidara feel like the tiny one. Deidara struggled under his strength. This is when he noticed how strong the smaller male was.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The small man said, shoving Deidara harder against the building.

Deidara felt his heart pound in his ears. That voice. It was so stoic and calm, but laced with venom. This man sounded like he hated him. The petit man, wanting an answer, pushed Deidara even harder against the building.

"Ack! I'm doing what I was hired to do!" Deidara finally spat.

The man looked disgusted.

"You planned to kill innocent people then?"

Deidara looked deep into those midnight eyes. He felt… guilt. He gulped. Who was this man? Who was he to judge him? Deidara felt rage burning in his chest. He finally pushed the man off of him the beautiful man stepped gracefully back, never stopping his glare.

"I'm not going to let you kill innocent people."

Deidara felt ashamed of himself. He had killed before, but never felt so much guilt. This angered Deidara. This man didn't know a thing about him. He growled at the man. And then in a flash, he punched the man right in the jaw. The man's head swung out of view, and then turned slowly to look back at him. He had a dribble of blood running out of the corner of his mouth. His face was impassive, but his eyes were disgusted. He brought a fragile hand up to wipe the blood away. He then turned, tossing the old gun on the ground. It broke on impact. Deidara's breath hitched as the gun broke.

The man turned on heel, his small frame distancing himself from Deidara.

"I thought you were different."


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry this took so long! I'm going to try & be better.

* * *

After the lovely man left, Deidara stood there gaping. How could this man have such power over him? Deidara's eyes fell on his shattered gun. His only sense of control lay broken at his feet. Deidara figured he could always get another gun; it wasn't like he didn't have more… But, suddenly the money seemed meaningless. He didn't want to be what this man thought he was. So, Deidara turned his back on his job, and his broken gun. He reported to the man whom ordered the hit, confirming that he was unable to kill the man's wife. The man was enraged; he threw money at Deidara, asking if more would ensure that she was dead. Deidara waved his hand, dismissively. Then turned to leave. The man yelled and pulled his own gun on Deidara. Deidara smirked, looked over his shoulder and shot the man in the chest.

Deidara then retreated to the bartender's home. He didn't like to stay with this man for prolonged periods of time, simply because the man was Deidara's complete opposite. Happy, successful, optimistic. It all made Deidara feel sick. But, he knew the bartender would offer him a place to crash, and boy did Deidara need to crash.

"Wake up." The bartender breathed as he shoved Deidara.

Deidara lifted his tired eyes and sighed.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"Too long. Tell me, what happened. Last time you slept like this… it was because of…"

"Stop." Deidara interrupted.

He sat up on the couch and stretched. His body popped and he yawned. Deidara rubbed the sleep from his eyes, finally letting his gaze fall on the bartender. He was dressed for work, and probably on his way out. Deidara grew annoyed. He should have just let him sleep, but that wasn't the bartender's style. He cared too much about him, and that was the bartender's mistake.

"Nothing happened."

"Damn it, Deidara. Tell me what the fuck happened."

Deidara glared at him.

"I don't want to talk about it. Leave me alone." Deidara hissed, getting to his feet.

Deidara made one continuous line towards the door, grabbing his brown boots and blue button down as he walked. He opened the door with too much force and slammed it shut behind him. He didn't stop when he was outside though. He walked down the driveway, kicking stones that happen to be in his way. He slung on his shirt as he walked, grumbling to himself as he buttoned it. Deidara made his way to the park that was parallel to the bartender's home and took a seat on a bench. There he laced up his boots and when he was finished he leaned back and stared at the empty playground.

He wasn't sure why he felt so angry or even guilty. But, it was pissing him off something fierce. He wished that the bartender had just let him sleep. In his dreams, he didn't feel all this pain and confusion.

Deidara stayed on the bench for a while. He watched the grass as the breeze blew it gently. He watched the clouds overhead. His mind drifted, but kept coming back to that man and those beautiful eyes. They look he gave Deidara… it made him shiver. Deidara felt his stomach churn and twist. He was hungry. Deidara dug into his black pants pocket, pulling out the last of his money. It was enough for breakfast, and he thought he deserved something good. He knew of the perfect place. A little café on the other side of the park. The tables were outside, allowing for people to people watch as they sipped on tea and ate toast. Deidara had passed this place several times, but had never bothered to stop, mostly because he thought he was too low-rent to be seen there. But, today he decided he would go there.

As Deidara made his way through the park, it occurred to him that he should fix his hair and maybe tuck in his shirt. He paused at a pond, and used the water to smooth out his wild hair. His blond locks still fell in every direction, but Deidara was so hungry that he convinced himself it was fine. He smiled as he realized that this shirt didn't have any blood on it, and happily tucked it into his pants. After he was polished he entered the café.

A sweet young woman sat Deidara; she didn't seem bother by Deidara or the fact that he was the grungiest person there. Deidara ignored the looks and ordered eggs and toast with a cup of coffee. Then he waited. Deidara watched as people walked along the streets. It was very soothing and he smiled softly.

"What are you doing here?"

The voice made Deidara jump and he turned to see that beautiful man before him. The man had his long black hair in that same pony-tail. He wore a white button-down with a black vest and pants to match. He held a newspaper under his left armpit and a book in his right hand. Deidara felt his face heat up as the man got closer.

"Well, I didn't read about the death of a group of women in the paper." He said smugly.

Deidara felt his hand curl into a fist. With the man this close, Deidara was able to clearly see the perfection that his face held. All except a small bruise on his delicate jaw. That was from him.

"I'm having breakfast." Deidara chocked out.

The man smirked.

"Look, I don't want to have to hurt you here. If you pull any of your psycho crap, I will stop it." The man hissed, leaning toward Deidara. Their eyes locked.

Deidara felt blood rushing to his cheeks, making them a bright shade of red.

"That's ridiculous. I'm just… just eating." Deidara stuttered.

The man smiled a genuine, beautiful smile.

"I didn't know murders enjoyed the finer things in life."

For some reason, that hurt Deidara. Deidara felt his jaw clench as he looked at the man. He was so beautiful, and for some reason Deidara felt so nervous. His eyes drifted down to the book he was holding. An art book. Deidara's eye flashed back up to meet the man's.

"And who are you to call me a murder?" Deidara said as cool as he could.

The man ignored him, and backed off. He began walking away from the table, with Deidara sitting there in awe. Deidara's mind was screaming at him to say something to the man, it couldn't be a coincidence that they kept meeting.

"My name is Deidara." Deidara finally yelped.

The man paused, and looked back at Deidara. He smiled softly.

"Uchiha Itachi."

Deidara's heart was pounding so hard, he finally relaxed after Itachi had walked out of view. Deidara exhaled and slumped in his chair. He wasn't hungry anymore, he was depressed. He pulled out the last of his money, leaving it on the table and left.

Deidara walked the streets for a while, thinking about Itachi. Finally his name. Just knowing the beautiful man's name made Deidara's heart flutter, but the way Itachi spoke to him made him depressed. Deidara grew angry thinking about Itachi. He didn't know what he had been through. He was probably some snob who got anything he wanted. He was well-dressed. He didn't know what a true struggle was. Deidara spent the rest of the day mulling over reasons to not like Itachi, but to no avail.

Deidara finally ended up at his usual bar. He entered the bar and immediately wished he hadn't. For, there in the corner or the bar, smiling his wicked smile at him, was the sheriff's son. Deidara wanted to punch that man right in-between his golden eyes. The sheriff's son stood, beckoning Deidara to his table. Deidara thought about flipping him the bird and leaving, but he could really use a scotch. So he approached the table.

"Ah, there is the fastest gun slinger this town has ever seen." He hissed as Deidara stood before him.

"Hello, Orochimaru."

Orochimaru laughed, his pale skin looking sickly in this light. He patted the seat next to him, and Deidara sat down. Orochimaru pushed his jet-black hair from his shoulders and leaned on the table.

"So, my father is dead." He smirked.

Deidara nearly chocked. The sheriff was dead? Why was Orochimaru so happy about this? His daddy kept him out of trouble.

"I'm surprise you are happy, you'll have to be a normal citizen now that your daddy isn't bailing you out." Deidara said dully.

Orochimaru chuckled, signaling for more drinks. He shook his head after the bar maid set down two glasses. They were filled with beer, something Deidara wasn't fond of. He drank anyway.

"On the contrary, I am the new sheriff."

Deidara nearly spit his drink out. He gulped the beer down and looked at Orochimaru.

"So, I guess I should pack up my things and leave?" Deidara asked.

Orochimaru laughed.

"Why? Because of our bar fight? I don't hold any negative feelings towards you. No, I simply wanted you to know that I am the new sheriff and to invite you to my father's funeral tomorrow. Noon. That's all."

Deidara's eyes narrowed. That was most certainly not all. But, he didn't fight it.

"Okay, I'll be there." Deidara said, getting to his feet.

"Oh and Deidara. Don't think you'll be getting away with any of this crime you've been doing. My father was too much of an idiot to stop you, but I am not."

The threat hung in the air. Deidara didn't respond and headed towards the bar.

* * *

Deidara woke the next morning in the park. He rubbed his aching shoulders and sat up. He was late. He could tell by the lack of people. He cursed.

Luckily there was only one funeral home in town, and it wasn't too far from where he was now. Deidara ran as fast as his legs could carry him. When he finally reached the funeral home, they had just lowered the sheriff into the ground. Deidara received many stares. He was well aware that he was the only one not in black. He didn't respect this man. He hung in the back, watching people offer condolences to Orochimaru. Orochimaru graciously accepted their kind words, but he was smiling his wicked smile all the while. Deidara thought about saying something to Orochimaru when he heard his name.

"I didn't think I'd see you here."

Deidara couldn't help the smile that spread over his face.

"Hello, Itachi."

Itachi smiled kindly at Deidara. He was dressed in all black and Deidara could see his eyes travel up and down his body.

"No black?"

"I'm just here because a… _friend_ asked." Deidara chuckled.

Itachi smiled.

"Why are you here?"

"Oh, I knew the sheriff pretty well." Itachi said.

For a moment Itachi's eyes flashed a sort of sadness, but it quickly disappeared. Itachi clasped his hands together and cleared his throat.

"I just wanted to apologize for my attitude towards you yesterday. I'm not normally so vicious. I know it isn't an excuse. But, I am sorry."

Deidara felt a blush settle on his face. He had no idea Itachi would apologize to him, and now that he had Deidara wasn't sure what to think. For some reason he felt guilty. Itachi was apologizing to him for being to him for almost killing innocent people. He had made this man feel guilt. It made Deidara feel sick.

"It's not a big deal. I'm scum." Deidara finally muttered.

This response shocked Itachi. He stared at the messy blond boy before him. Itachi couldn't lie that he was attractive. Itachi hated violence though, and this man seemed to live in a chaotic pool of violence.

"You're not scum. I'm sure…"

Deidara shook his head, reaching out to grab Itachi's thin arm.

"I know this is dumb, but since I met you, I cannot stop thinking about you. It's driving me crazy. And, I try to avoid you, but you're everywhere I go."

Itachi politely pulled his arm away.

"You're sweet. But, I can't get mixed up with the wrong crowd."

Deidara's heart pounded.

"I'm not as bad as you think."

"You almost killed several innocent women." Itachi said flatly.

Deidara couldn't retort. He was right. Deidara let his head droop.

"I know what you have done."

Deidara looked up into Itachi's dark eyes.

"I know you're a thief for hire, which I guess has now graduated to murder."

Deidara felt his temper flare. He grabbed Itachi's slender shoulders, looking deep into his eyes.

"You don't know me at all. I have never been a hit man before that day, and I never will. I can never get those women out of my head. You don't know my struggles." He said between gritted teeth.

Itachi stared back in shock. Deidara's tan hands on his pale shoulders were heavy. He could feel Deidara's breath on his cheeks. He could smell a slight scent of pine coming from the blond. Itachi blushed.

"You're right. I'm… I'm sorry."

Deidara pulled away and crossed his arms.

"You couldn't handle what I do."

Itachi pouted.

"I doubt that. I'm tough." Itachi explained.

Deidara laughed.

"Prove it."

Itachi's face was a soft shade of pink. He glared up at the blond.

"Fine. Take me on a heist then."

Deidara couldn't help but laugh.

"You're adorable."

"I'm serious!"

Deidara smirked.

"Fine, I'll pick you up anything you'd like."

Itachi smirked back.

"I've always liked that painting in the art museum downtown. The one with the flowers."

Deidara knew that painting very well. The man with the tan eyes loved it too. Deidara felt his heart throb with pain as he remembered his old lover.

"You got it."

"Meet me here, tonight at 8."

Deidara smiled.


End file.
